Rona Vaselaar

Suddenly, this road felt like it served a different purpose. Like it was devoid of all human life and vestiges.

A strange little shiver crept up my spine at that. He likes the dark. Kids are creepy. Shaking off the feeling, I walked across the room and checked under the bed.

She glided across the ice, stumbling once or twice, and I grimaced at the pockmarks she must be leaving on the surface. She wasn’t very good at skating, I decided. That made me feel a little better, like we might be on more even ground.

One night, as I gasped myself awake from loud and vivid dreams, I heard a voice. It was a low voice, vibrating with intensity, shaking and piercing me. It almost seemed as though I heard it not from my ears, but from somewhere deep inside of me.

I knew the apartment wasn’t empty the moment I stepped in the door. And the moment the smell it hit my nose, my face furrowed in disgust. It was harsh and metallic, the smell of something that shouldn’t be there.

“I know that’s why you’ve come here. At least, part of the reason. But I find myself compelled to inform you that this place isn’t safe…” She paused then, her eyes giving me a sharp once-over, before saying, “especially for you.”

I felt like a freak. A freak who cried at night when her parents couldn’t see and made friends with mirrors. Maybe that’s why the best dreams I ever had were ones where I wasn’t so strange.

I began to notice a pattern. I noticed that, when children went under, they didn’t struggle – they showed no signs of drowning. However, the adolescents and adults showed signs of distressed swimming, but not at the surface of the water.

“This is what I’ll be using to open the packaging. It might get a little messy, so I’ve placed a few tarps on the ground. Hopefully that will catch most of the mess.”

There is human evil, this much is easy enough to see. But it is not the only manifestation of evil in the world. There is another sort, one of a darker nature.

I wasn’t allowed to view the body – my parents were worried it would “damage” me. As if I hadn’t been damaged enough.

Before momma let them take me away, I started getting sick. Sometimes, I can’t stop from shaking. I get bad headaches and soreness all over my body. Sometimes, my arms are so stiff they’re hard to bend. It made momma sad and scared.

All in all, my services made everyone happy. I was a hero to the girls, and enigma to the boys. I was content. I should have known there would be consequences.

In a daze, I continued to run, choosing random pathways and praying that some exit would reveal itself. No matter how far I ran, however, I was greeted with looming masses of books, watching me eagerly for signs of distress.

My mind was racing. I wanted to run for the door that was swinging open on its hinges, but I couldn’t. Not with Tracy still in the apartment. The thought of her trapped in my room made me sick to my stomach. No, I had to protect her, I had to.

“It’s in the flesh, it’s in the blood, it’s Black Magic.”

I scrambled to my feet, swinging the backpack onto my back, leaving the flashlight – which had turned back on – in the dirt. I lunged for the rope and pulled myself up with a strength I didn’t know I had. A few moments later, I was out of the chicken coop, gulping in gallons of fresh air.

I saw the hole in the floor. I got closer and realized that there was a door in the floor, with a ladder leading down underneath the locker rooms. I tried to shrug it off, thinking that it probably just led to some electrical shit. But this weird feeling was nagging at me.